


Talk Too Much

by heroalba



Series: Kinktober 2019 [2]
Category: Senyuu. (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, Jealousy, Kinktober 2019, M/M, Overstimulation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-05
Updated: 2019-10-05
Packaged: 2020-11-24 04:55:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20901977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heroalba/pseuds/heroalba
Summary: Ros's way of cheering Alba up isn't particularly conventional, but it works.





	Talk Too Much

**Author's Note:**

> i only have three more to write before im caught up lol also i combined day 2's prompt (dirty talk) with a req i got from rossalba :3c!

_ Why can’t I just _ ** _do _ ** _ this?! _

Alba’s chair scrapes the stone floor as he sits back, his chest tight with frustration. He’s only halfway through the second page of the work Ros left for him over a month ago and he’s stuck. Applying magic was simple enough in theory, but the actual science behind it was far from easy.

Part of him admires Ros for knowing all of this and being able to apply it in quick time, but another part of him is beyond irate. The first few worksheets Ros left with him, the first few lessons, and all--

Alba _ gets _ it, to some degree. He can catch on to the basics of anything. But encountering problems… At least in school there were other students he could hide behind. Here, in this cave, Alba has no one except the occasional visitor. He has to stare his failures in the face, and it’s so much easier to stand back up again when it’s a physical injury. Knowing, _ seeing _he’s still too far behind in Ros’s lessons, seeing how little control he has over his power still. He’s still not good enough. The confrontation of this fact, over and over and over, is starting to wear him down.

Additionally, the power he can’t control-- he hates saying it, will never say it aloud lest it be taken from him-- it _ scares _ him. Alba has to sit in a magically-reinforced cave by himself until he learns to control the magic burning rampant in him, or he risks blowing a hole in the world. Destroying everything just by _ existing _outside this space.

And (his thoughts are running away from him), no one should have to give up their time or energy to sit with him, make him less lonely. Ros was sealed for a thousand years with Crea, who didn’t have control over his own body until a handful of months ago. Ruki has a family. Foyfoy apparently has a career on top of spending time with his own sister. Alba’s mom is human (???), and she can’t come to the demon world anyway.

He spent a year training and looking for Ros, but Ros only visits once, maybe twice a month. Alba _ knows _he shouldn’t feel angry, but he can’t help feeling a twinge of jealousy when Ros tells him about all the fun adventures he’s having with Crea, all the foods he’s showing Crea that didn’t exist when they were sealed, how much Crea has progressed since getting his body back--

“Hero~” 

Alba jumps when Ros’s hand falls on his shoulder. _ Fuck, I haven’t-- shit, I didn’t get it done, I forgot he was coming today-- _

Instead of the usual relief he feels at someone else’s presence in his lonely prison, instead of being happy to see Ros like he usually is, Alba feels tears well in his eyes.

“A-ah! Ros!” Alba blinks hard, willing away the tears. He smiles, the sentiment not reaching his eyes. “I didn’t know-- sorry, I’d have cleaned up a bit if I knew you were coming!” He starts to get up but Ros presses him back into his chair, his grip tightening painfully on Alba’s shoulder.

Alba can envision Ros’s sadistic smile without having to turn to him, and he swallows. Ros catches onto his nervousness and hums dismissively. 

“I come the same day every month, Hero. The fact you forgot breaks my heart.” The sarcasm is oozing off Ros’s voice but Alba still feels a little pang of guilt. He glances at his calendar, then down to his lap.

“I-I didn’t forget, I just-- sorry, my brain is kind of. Fried right now,” he says, trying to keep his tone light. He takes a deep breath to calm down. The grip on his shoulder loosens, giving one last gentle squeeze before Ros steps away.

“Doing your homework, hm?” 

“This isn’t class,” Alba immediately bites, overly defensive, and Ros raises his hands in a ‘calm down’ gesture. Alba moves to flip the page closed but Ros snatches it from him, and Alba feels something cold settle in his stomach.

_ He’s going to know he’s wasting his time with me. _The thought comes out of nowhere and instantly Alba feels like he’s going to choke on the tight ball in his throat, tears blurring his vision. 

Ros is unbearably quiet as he reviews Alba’s work. He flips the page over, scans the first sheet’s answers, then looks back at page two, and Alba watches one of his brows raise. Ros sighs and Alba’s hands shake when he goes to take the packet from Ros, stomach in knots.

“I didn’t finish it,” Alba finally chokes out. He’s a little impressed at how steady his voice is. “Sorry.” He can’t see Ros, doesn’t _ want _to, because if he sees disappointment in Ros’s face Alba doesn’t know how long he can hold himself back from crying.

“I saw.” 

Alba stares down at his scribbly answers on the top of the first page. The lines may as well be a foreign language for how little Alba understood them.

“Sorry,” Alba apologizes again. His brain feels like slush. Some part of him know Ros won’t be truly mad at him, just surface-level ribbing and insults like usual. But with thoughts of how unworthy he is, how he should be sent back to his back-water village to live out the rest of his days doing something more suited for him than _ hero work _of all things--

Alba’s hands are still trembling and he laughs. “I can’t even do this basic stuff; I’m so useless.” He’s just saying it before Ros can, but somehow it hurts more when Alba says it to himself because Alba knows he _ means _it.

“Yeah. You’re right about one thing.” Alba flinches as Ros agrees. “You are pretty useless, Hero. But,” Alba forces his eyes up to meet Ros, crouching in front of him. Ros’s fingers trail over Alba’s own, gingerly taking the papers from his sweating, shaking grasp.

The sound of paper shredding makes Alba look up, his jaw dropping. Ros’s eyes are focused on him as his hands rent the packet, crumpling and tearing indiscriminately. “This stuff is far from basic.”

Ros let the remains of the packet fall uselessly to the floor, and Alba stares after them. Some stupid part of his brain starts to complain about how he’s going to have to clean that mess up later, but when Alba opens his mouth a strangled noise comes out instead.

_ Why did he-- why did I-- _

Tender fingers slip under his chin and pull his face up. Alba blinks back tears and resists the urge to sniffle. Ros’s eyes are soft and it sparks something other than guilt and shame in Alba’s chest.

“Alba…” The way Ros says his name does something funny to Alba’s gut, and Alba swallows. Ros only ever uses his name when there’s something serious he wants to say, or when he’s being exceedingly generous. Alba kind of hopes it’s both.

  


* * *

Ros presses Alba back into the wall, the rocky surface digging into his back. Alba doesn’t mind, distracted with how Ros is kissing him. Deep and like Alba’s the first breath he’s taken in months, teeth and tongue brushing Alba’s lower lip.

His hands, always cold, slip under the waistband of Alba’s pants to grab his ass, tug him forward so Alba can feel how hard Ros is already. Alba’s head swims and he moans into Ros’s lips, shuddering. Ros hasn’t touched him in so long, and Alba’s nearly forgotten how much he _ craves _it, how his body aches under every caress.

“Ros,” Alba whimpers, tilting his head back against the stone as Ros moves down to kiss along his jaw. Ros squeezes and kneads his ass, playfully spreading his cheeks to rub at his hole. Alba arches, tries to get more of that touch, and Ros bites him chidingly. 

“Let me, Alba. Let me take my time with you.” Ros’s voice has dropped into a raspy growl, and the words send a thrill of warmth through Alba. Ros’s lips press to his throat and Alba shivers, grips Ros closer. “I’ll make you feel good.”

The promise sits low in Alba’s stomach. One of Ros’s hands slips up and around, the waistband of Alba’s pants stretching to accommodate as Ros moved. He rubs a gentle circle against Alba’s hip before he moves in. Alba’s hips jerk forward as Ros’s fingers wrap around his cock, a gasp tearing out of him, and Ros grins. Presses another kiss, a bite even, to Alba’s neck and collar. 

“You’re always such a good boy for me, yeah. Always ready and willing to let me fuck you.” Alba rolls his hips into Ros’s grip, and Ros hums encouragingly. “You’d let me do anything to you, I bet. Just for this,” his grip around Alba’s cock tightens, and Alba’s knees go weak. “So wet. So willing.”

Ros doesn’t normally talk so much, but Alba isn’t complaining. He’s already throbbing, aching in Ros’s hands. Ros presses another kiss to Alba’s lips, but he pulls away just as Alba starts to melt into him.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Alba’s cheeks darken, Ros pulling another whine out of him easily. His mouth was dry. If his thoughts were anywhere near functional and in line, Alba might would have participated. Alba might would have told Ros that _ yes, _ he’d do _ anything, _ he’d be _ anything _Ros wanted. But, his thoughts hazy like this, all Alba can say is breathy renditions of Ros’s name.

Ros pulls his hands away from Alba and leans in, sucks a mark into Alba’s neck as he pulls Alba’s pants down. He pulls down his own, just enough to free his cock, and Alba’s fingers twitch. 

Before he can stop himself Ros is bucking into his grip, his breath hot against Alba’s ear. The way he moans just encourages Alba to stroke him again, more than happy when Ros kisses him. Ros’s cock is hard and hot in his hand and Alba feels his own arousal swelling tighter in his chest. He wants to sink down to his knees and let Ros fuck his mouth.

The image of that alone makes Alba squirm and his mouth water, but Ros nudges his hand away from his crotch with a small growl. 

“What, you want me to come before I can fuck you?” Ros’s voice is scratchy, and Alba shakes his head. Dazed. Ros kisses him again, brief and sweet. “Say something. I prefer my hero begging for me.”

_ That _flips something in his brain, and as Ros is lifting him, holding him up by his thighs and letting the wall hold Alba’s weight as Alba starts babbling.

“Ros,” Alba gasps, his shoulders already aching from being shoved so hard into the wall. “Ros, please, I want you, you’re so good to me, so perfect, please, fuck me.” His words start running together as his voice rises in pitch. His thighs ache as Ros presses closer to him, and Alba takes the chance to grip Ros’s hair. Steady himself.

“That’s more like it, Hero,” Ros murmurs. Alba barely registers the words, the back of his head thunking back hard against the wall as Ros presses into him. He half recognizes that he’s damn near keening as the feeling of being stretched open settles in his veins.

His thighs are trembling, twitching in Ros’s grip. Ros slides them up, cups Alba’s ass again, and Alba happily squeezes his thighs against Ros’s waist. “Fuck,” Ros hisses against his ear and Alba tightens around his cock to hear it again.

“Ros, Ros, you’re so good,” Alba gasps. He curls in closer and whines when Ros sinks his teeth into Alba’s collarbone. “Fuck me harder, please, please, _ please _\--”

He cuts off with a cry as Ros grinds into his prostate on the next thrust, pleasure shocking through him. Normally, Ros makes him beg a lot more, makes him really work for what he wants, but right now Ros is breathing little curses against Alba’s skin and fucking him harder and harder without any backlash. The thought only makes the pit in Alba’s stomach wind tighter, his heart beating harder in his chest.

Ros sucks and bites bruises into Alba’s collar and throat that ache and throb with each beat. Alba tugs Ros’s hair, trying to encourage him up for a kiss, but he ends up becoming distracted as Ros hits his prostate again.

“A-ah, there, please--!” Ros doesn’t hesitate, angles his hips to drive harder into _ that _ spot. Alba crosses his ankles behind Ros’s back, chokes on his name because the pleasure’s almost too much to bear. “Yes, yes, yes-- _fuck_\--”

Alba doesn’t even have time to warn him before he’s coming, hard. His vision goes white and he arches against the wall, babbling various broken renditions of Ros’s name. 

Ros fucks him through the tremors and aftershocks of pleasure, rolling his hips more slowly. He lets Alba come down gently, kisses him as Alba makes a weak complaint about the overstimulation.

“I’m rewarding you.” Ros’s voice is so raspy and strained that Alba doesn’t need more than a few moments to feel heat swirl in his gut again. He fucks Alba deep and slow, dragging pleasure back into Alba’s still-heaving form. “I’ll fuck you until you can’t even think about that stupid packet anymore.”

The words carry a promise and Alba feels a little nervousness mixing with the arousal. He knows Ros will follow through, and he swallows, his cock twitching back to life at the concept of being so fucked out.

“But I want you to come, too,” Alba murmurs. Ros grins and kisses him, revels in the gasp he gets as he grinds in deep.

“Aww, Hero,” his voice is playful, stained with effort as he tries not to lose his cool. “How thoughtful. I’ll come,” his tone drops a little lower, and Alba jerks as a hand worms between them to grab his half-hard cock, 

“but your ‘reward’ comes first.”


End file.
